


Again

by ConfusedMuse



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Bad Puns, Existential Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Knock-Knock Jokes, Neutral Route (Undertale), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Show Creator's Style for Full Effect, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Spoilers - Neutral Route, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5272400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfusedMuse/pseuds/ConfusedMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This has happened before, and it will happen again.</p><p>When Sans found the door in the forest he thought that he’d hit a knock-knock goldmine, but what he really discovered was the monster who would change his life. Before he knows it, he’s head over heels and breaking his own rules in order to keep his promise to her. But when the human comes through the Underground and Sans loses almost everything, he’s afraid that he’ll lose her too in the aftermath. However, someone Sans has forgotten doesn’t appreciate him trying to stall the reset…</p><p>[Based off the neutral ending where Sans and Toriel are the only ones left alive.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knock Knock

There was a note taped to the inside of San’s door when he woke up that morning. It read: ‘take the job.’

Sans yawned, scratching the base of his skull before flipping the paper over. There, in the same handwriting but upside down, it read: ‘farts.’

Damn. That was one of the codewords.

Sans let the paper fall back into place against the door and stretched, his joints popping softly. He didn’t remember writing the note, and the codeword checked out, which meant that the timeline had jumped back again. Sans tried to think of anything unusual, anything different that might give away where the seam was in his memories, but there was nothing there. What he remembered of the previous day was just the usual; eating, sleeping, going to Grillby’s, more sleeping.

He supposed it was a little self-centered to think that a reset had anything to do with him.

Sans pulled the note off the door, the tape pulling a piece of paint with it. He had a rule about notes. If he didn’t remember writing it and it had the right codeword, then that was his sign that his other self had left him something to set things back on track. Sans never knew how far into the future—or maybe the past?—the notes were from, but thinking too much about the implications made him feel dizzy.

But Sans had no clue why his other self wanted him to _work_.

The other day, Papyrus had talked a lot about how fun it was to be a sentry. How exhilarating it was to stand behind a post, doing nothing. The taste of fresh air after walking over a barren snow landscape for the umpteenth time. That he’d found the meaning of life in creating puzzles that could stop any human.

Sans got the hint. But working wasn’t his style. Too much effort. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing.

Besides, things felt pointless enough without having to stand in woods by himself for hours at a time.

Sans crumpled the note into a ball, and threw it into the corner. A few other paper balls were already there. He stared at them, thinking. The codeword didn’t lie. This was important.

And it wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time.

Sans shrugged. Here went nothing.

* * *

"PROMISE ME THAT YOU WON’T JUST SLEEP OUT HERE," Papyrus said, crossing his arms as Sans took his spot behind the sentry station. A slight wind whistled through the trees. They were out towards the very edge of the densest part of the forest, where the trees were packed so close together that there was only darkness between them. The only thing aside from the station was a small worn path leading deeper inside, its end swallowed up by shadows.

Sans glanced at the path and then leaned back in his chair before replying to Papyrus. "you know I don’t make promises, bro," he said, shrugging at him. "especially ones that I can’t keep in the first place."

"UGHHH," Papyrus shouted, throwing his skull back towards the sky in a dramatic display that wouldn’t be out of place on an MTT broadcast. Sans took the opportunity to pull a series of condiment bottles out of his jacket and arrange them on the counter while Papyrus wasn't looking.

Papyrus tilted his skull back down towards him with a sigh. "LOOK SANS," he continued, pointing at him. "GETTING YOU THIS POSITION WAS A REALLY BIG FAVOR FROM UNDYNE, AND IT’S VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU TAKE THIS—"

Papyrus stopped himself, his eye sockets narrowing. He pointed at the colored bottles sitting on the counter of the sentry station.

"WHAT ARE THOSE," he demanded.

Sans tossed the ketchup bottle from one hand to the other. "i’m gonna be out here for a while, bro. I should have something to drink."

Papyrus covered his face in his gloved hands, shaking his head. "SANS, I WANTED YOU TO TAKE THIS POSITION BECAUSE I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU," he said, his voice muffled. "WHY CAN’T YOU BRING YOURSELF TO TAKE ANYTHING SERIOUSLY?"

Sans put down the ketchup bottle. "i’m just pulling your femur, bro," he said. "i’ll keep an eye out, I promise."

Papyrus raised his face from his hands with a smile. "DO YOU MEAN THAT?"

"yeah," Sans said with a shrug. "but I dunno if i’ll be as good at it as you."

"WELL," Papyrus said, straightening up, "UNDYNE HAS CONFIDED IN ME SOME SECRETS ABOUT HUMANS. BUT WORRY NOT, BROTHER! YOU ARE THE FIRST LINE OF DEFENSE, BUT WHEN A HUMAN ARRIVES, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS LET ME KNOW, AND I WILL TAKE CARE OF IT!"

"you got it, bro," Sans said.

"I WILL COME BACK IN TWO HOURS TO SEE HOW YOU ARE DOING!" Papyrus said, walking away and waving at the same time. "BECAUSE THAT IS HOW LONG IT TAKES FOR ME TO RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES! AND BY THE WAY, YOU NEED TO THINK OF SOME PUZZLES OF YOUR OWN, SANS! I EXPECT YOU TO HAVE A FEW IDEAS ONCE I GET BACK!"

Sans waved back. It was nice to be working together with Papyrus on something that meant a lot to him. Maybe this was what his other self had wanted him to do. Making Papyrus happy was well worth a note from one timeline to the next.

As Papyrus walked out of sight, Sans lowered his arm back down, letting the silence settle in around him. Quiet in the snow was different from quiet elsewhere. It wasn’t that there was no sound—the snow around him swallowed it up. As the wind died down it felt like the atmosphere itself was hanging on his shoulders.

Even for Papyrus, Sans wasn’t sure if he could stay here.

Sans shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down the trail that led further into the forest. He had two hours to kill. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little walk.

* * *

The forest was trees and snow and more trees. Sans wasn’t sure what he’d expected. The only change in scenery was brief—a bridge with some kind of wooden arch over it—but there was nothing else around but silence. Sans kept walking, filling the quiet with his crunching footsteps, not sure what he would do when he stopped. The lack of sound felt like it was pressing down around his skull, reminding him that he was probably just wasting moments in this timeline as well. Sans shook himself and kept walking, staring at his slippered feet. He wondered if the condiment bottles would freeze in this weather. It was hard to tell without being able to feel the cold for himself.

Sans was so focused on ignoring the silence and figuring out the freezing point of ketchup that he almost walked right into something huge and purple. The sudden change in color made Sans back up a few steps to get a better look at it.

It was a door.

He craned his skull back to look up at it. Sans couldn’t even begin to guess how old it might be. It was set into a wall that was a deeper shade of purple but riddled with cracks, reaching up and to the sides of the forest surrounding it farther than his pupils could see. There was fancy molding around it, the top carved with the Delta Rune. Sans remembered the whispers he’d heard at Grillby’s about a door in the forest that led to the Ruins, where the monsters had lived when they’d first been banished under the mountain.

It felt like he’d been here before.

Sans stared at the door for a while. This had to be what the note was talking about. He’d never have wandered out this far if it weren’t for this job.And he had a pretty good guess why his other self had left the note.

This door was perfect for knock-knock jokes.

It was quiet, secluded, and far enough away from the sentry station that Sans could practice his jokes without bothering Papyrus. It was the perfect way to slack off.

Sans sent a silent thank you to his other self and then raised his hand.

_Knock knock._

The silence settled in around him again, but this time it didn’t feel like it was dragging him down.

"dozen," Sans said to no one. He paused for the imaginary question.

"dozen anybody wanna let me in?"

It was lacking something without Papyrus’ frustrated groaning in response, but it was easy enough for Sans to imagine. He reached out to the door again.

_Knock knock._

"figs."

Pause.

"isn’t anyone gonna _figs_ the door?"

He grinned. This was pretty sweet.

* * *

It took two days for Papyrus to catch Sans sleeping on the job, a new record.

"SANS!" Papyrus yelled, slamming his hands down on the wood paneling in front of Sans. "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO RECALIBRATE YOUR PUZZLES?"

Sans yawned. "i set them up yesterday, bro," he said.

Papyrus shook a finger at him. "NO, THAT IS NOT PROPER PUZZLE PROCEDURE. THEY NEED TO BE RECALIBRATED AT LEAST ONCE A DAY, DUSTED TWICE A DAY, THANKED FOR THEIR PATIENCE AND SERVICE AT LEAST FOUR TIMES A DAY—"

Sans set his elbows on the sentry station counter, resting his chin in his hands. "and when am i supposed to watch for humans, bro?" he asked.

Papyrus’s wagging finger drooped. "I… DID NOT CONSIDER THAT," he admitted.

"how about you handle the puzzles," Sans said, pointing to Papyrus, "while i do the lookout." He pointed back at himself. "between the two of us, we’ll have everything covered."

Papyrus smiled, clasping his hands together. "DO YOU REALLY THINK SO?" he said, eye sockets shining. "THAT WOULD BE A GREAT WAY TO COMBINE OUR PRODUCTIVI—WAIT A SECOND." He slammed his hands back down on the counter again. "ARE YOU JUST SAYING THAT SO YOU CAN SLACK OFF WHILE THE GREAT PAPYRUS COVERS FOR YOU?" he demanded.

*wouldn’t dream of it, bro, Sans said with a wink.

"YOU’RE JUST BUTTERING ME UP!" Papyrus said, going back to shaking his finger at Sans. He stood up, placing his hands on his hipbones. "I GOT YOU THIS JOB BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO GET SOME FRESH AIR AND RESPONSIBILITY INSTEAD OF GOING TO GRILLBY’S ALL THE TIME! BUT IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO SHOW PROPER RESPECT TO PUZZLES, I’M NOT SURE WHY YOU AGREED TO TAKE THIS JOB!!"

The door flashed through Sans’s mind, and he felt a little guilty. Maybe he was using Papyrus a bit.

"it’s not like that, bro," Sans said, reaching under the counter. "see? I made another puzzle." He held out a piece of paper to Papyrus.

He squinted at it. "SANS," Papyrus said, "THIS IS JUST A BUNCH OF DOTS WITH NUMBERS."

"and what do you do with dots with numbers?" Sans prompted, pulling out a ketchup bottle from underneath the counter.

Papyrus gasped. "IS THIS…CONNECT THE DOTS?!" he asked, looking up at Sans in disbelief. Sans nodded, and Papyrus looked back at it, the sparkle returning to his eye sockets. "BROTHER, THIS IS GENIUS! MAY I TEST IT?" Papyrus asked.

"go for it," Sans said, holding out a pencil. Papyrus took it from him and started drawing lines between the dots at a speed that made his hand blur. Sans had just taken a sip from the ketchup bottle before Papyrus dropped the pencil, finished. He held the paper closer to his face. Sans couldn’t see his expression.

"SANS… IS THIS MY FACE?" Papyrus asked.

"yeah, bro," Sans said, putting ketchup bottle down. He was a fast draw when it came to Papyrus. He’d finished it in the five minutes before Papyrus came to check up on him.

"BROTHER, THIS IS SO… SO…" The paper edge drooped over, revealing tiny tears in the corners of Papyrus’s eye sockets. He sniffed and wiped them away.

"BUT!" Papyrus said, standing up again, "AS TOUCHING AS THIS IS, HOW ARE WE GOING TO USE THIS AGAINST A HUMAN, SANS? AS SOON AS A HUMAN GLIMPSES MY VISAGE, THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY THAT THEY WILL FORGET IT!" He tapped the paper with the back of his hand. "THEY WILL SOLVE THIS TOO FAST! AND BESIDES, HOW WILL WE TRICK THEM INTO SOLVING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

Sans shrugged. "beats me, bro."

Papyrus sighed, and looked back at the puzzle once again. "WELL… IT’S CLEAR THAT YOU PUT EFFORT INTO THIS, SO I WILL ACCEPT THIS PUZZLE." Papyrus rolled up the piece of paper and used it to point at Sans instead of his finger. "BUT KEEP IN MIND THE LIMITATIONS AND IMPROVE ON THEM FOR NEXT TIME!" he said.

Sans tilted the ketchup bottle in Papyrus’s direction. "you got it," he said.

"GOOD," Papyrus nodded, crossing his arms with a look of satisfaction on his face. "NOW! IT IS TIME TO PATROL! I’LL COVER THE FIELDS! YOU COVER THE FOREST!"

Papyrus began to run off, but then skidded around on one foot to shout something back to Sans. "I’LL MEET YOU BACK HOME FOR DINNER!" he yelled. "IT’S A NEW SPAGHETTI RECIPE!"

Papyrus started waving, and stayed there until Sans waved back, running across the snow towards town.

Sans let his arm fall back down to his side. He loved his brother, but if he was cooking today then Sans was going to take the long way. And by “the long way,” he meant that he’d just practice in front of the door for a few hours before going home.

After stashing away the ketchup bottle, Sans put his hands inside his jacket pockets and headed into the woods.

* * *

"banana."

Pause.

"banana."

Pause.

"banana."

Pause.

"banana."

A longer pause.

"orange."

Pause.

"orange you glad i didn’t say banana?"

The shine was starting to wear off. Practicing jokes wasn’t the same without a living being responding to them. But it also took too much effort to find a partner when he already had a perfectly good door. Sans shifted where he was sitting, leaning his weight against the crack between the molding and the rest of the door. He reached up behind him to knock on the door to start another joke, and halfway through the motion decided to narrate it this time.

Just for kicks.

"knock knock."

“Who’s there?”

Sans almost fell sideways into the snow. For a second he wondered if he’d snapped. There was no way that there was a woman on the other side of the door. He’d heard the stories at Grillby’s. Only the spiders who couldn’t pass through the snow lived in the Ruins now.

Sans held out a hand to steady himself against the snow. Maybe he was hallucinating in the silence. Sans leaned closer to the door. He could hear _something_  on the other side that sounded like soft padding moving across a smooth floor. Sans wasn’t sure what kind of monster made that kind of noise, but it told him that he wasn’t crazy.

There was someone there.

Sans shrugged to himself. He _had_  wanted a partner, after all.

"dishes," Sans said.

He heard the rustling again before the response.

“Dishes who?”

"dishes a bad joke."

A pause. Then—

A peal of laugher sounded from the other side of the door. He wasn’t crazy—there was someone there. And that someone sounded like they hadn’t heard any joke at all for a hundred years.

It wasn’t polite laughter either, or the kind where the person hearing the joke shook their head while they chuckled. This was complete, full laughter, filled with joy that hadn’t been there a moment before. Sans leaned into the door, trying to take in more of the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time one of his jokes had made someone this happy.

He waited for the laughter to die down and then tried again.

"knock knock."

“Who’s there?”

"me."

“Me who?”

"no really, it’s just me. i’m trying to tell you a knock knock joke."

And there was that laugh again. It was so honest and bright that Sans wished it would never stop.

He reached out to the door again.

"knock knock."

“Who’s there?”

And on and on it went, her reaction never faltering, but Sans started to catch the little differences—the way her breath caught when she heard the punchline, her slight snort, the pause before a giggle that would start her laughing all over again, each one genuine in its own way. He had no clue who he was telling jokes to, but Sans didn’t care. She had the same love of bad jokes as he did.

He’d never had an audience like her before.

After a dozen or so jokes, Sans waited for her to catch her breath before starting the next one, but then—

“Knock knock!”

She sounded so excited.

"who’s there?" he asked.

Sans heard something like the rustling of fabric on the other side of the door. “Old lady,” she said. She sounded much closer now. Sans wondered if the door was as thick as it looked.

He leaned against it, somewhere below her voice. "old lady who?" he asked.

“Oh! I did not know you could yodel!”

Wow.

She started laughing at her own joke, but Sans didn’t respond right away. There was something expanding in his ribcage, making his bones feel like they were on fire. It was a feeling that was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

In that same moment, he realized something. The other Sans hadn’t left the note because of knock knock jokes. He’d left it because of _her_.

Her laughter faded out. “Hello? Are you still there?” She paused. “Was it that bad?”

Sans shook his skull before remembering that she couldn’t see him. "no, it’s not that," he said, moving as close to the crack in the door as he could get. "lady… you’re really good."

Her heard her take a breath. Then—

“Well, I try my hardest to be _punny_  when the situation allows for it,” she said.

Sans had no idea what she looked like, but he could hear the smirk in her voice. He grinned.

Game on.

"knock knock."


	2. Punctual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d never heard of anyone making friends only through bad jokes before. Not that he was complaining.

Time was strange in the Underground. According to the books Sans had read long ago, the humans up above had light to go off of to tell them the time of day, but down in the Underground “time” came down to one’s internal clock or whatever the MTT broadcast said.

Sans had an excellent internal clock—or at least, that was what he told Papyrus whenever he was late for something. But this time Sans couldn’t guess how much time he’d spent in front of the door, trading jokes with the lady inside. If the saying was right and time did fly when you were having fun, then that meant he’d burned more than enough hours laughing in the snow with someone he couldn’t see. Sans didn’t want Papyrus to start worrying about him.

“ok, one more,” Sans said, trying to stop his own laughter. “just one more and then i gotta bail.”

“All right,” she answered, her giggles winding down.

Sans took a breath. “knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“ken.”

“Ken who?”

“ _ken_  we meet again?”

He waited. The oppressive silence started to grow again.

“Yes,” she said, so quiet that it almost didn’t carry through the door. “I would like that.”

Sans resisted the urge to fist-pump the air, even though there was no one around to see. “so, same time tomorrow?” he asked instead.

“Yes, that will be fine,” she said, but Sans had figured out how to read her voice over the last few hours. She was excited too.

“ok,” Sans replied, still willing himself to keep his cool. He stood up and shook the snow out from between his leg bones. “later.”

“Until next time!” she said.

That single statement carried him all the way back home.

* * *

As the days passed, Sans started to wonder if one of them would run out of jokes to tell. But his first impression had been right; this lady was good. She kept him on his toes, even pulling out a few that Sans had never heard before.

“Knock knock!”

“who’s there?”

“Theodore.”

“theodore who?”

“ _Theodore_  was broken, so I had to say knock knock!”

Before, most of the laughs in Sans’s life had been from Papyrus’s reactions to his jokes or the few times when his brother dropped a pun himself, intentional or not. But this was different. Sans had never met anyone else who only wanted to talk in jokes. He had no clue what her name was, or even what she was doing living past that door. But she was always there, the same time every day, waiting to see who could laugh the hardest.

“knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“police.”

“Police who?”

“ _police_  let me in, it’s cold out here!”

When he was the one telling the jokes, her laughs usually started with a soft chuckle that grew in pitch and volume until it became infectious and made Sans laugh too. He wasn’t the type of person to laugh at his own jokes, but it felt like she was rewriting his joke rulebook every time they met.

She ended her laugh with a sigh. “Is it truly cold out there?” she asked.

A snowflake floated down in front of Sans’s face. He caught it on his palm. “i don’t really notice,” he said. “i guess there’s been a little more snow than usual.”

“Oh dear. I hope you’re not going out of your way to see me in bad weather,” she said.

“nah,” Sans said, leaning back against the door so he could hear her better. “this is the only kind of weather we get. ’sides, my funny bone needs a workout. i’d go a long way for that.”

He heard her giggle. “I feel the same,” she said. “Although, there is hardly any weather to speak of in here, so that will not keep me away.”

She sounded a little sad at that, and Sans couldn’t begin to guess why. He just stayed where he was, watching the snow come down in thicker sheets by the minute.

The snowflakes started to fall in denser clumps, and Sans watched them pile up in silence. There was a gap between the door and the trees where the snow could fall unhindered, and Sans was sitting right in the middle of it. Within a few moments, his legs were covered with white powder. Sans brushed off the bits of snow that had landed on his skull and pulled his hood up.

Come to think of it, had they talked normally like this yet? It had been a few days, with probably hundreds of knock knock jokes between the two of them. Had they even stopped to just talk before now? It had happened so easily that Sans almost laughed at that as well. He’d never heard of anyone making friends only through bad jokes before. Not that he was complaining.

Then, two soft knocks from her side of the door.

“Knock knock.”

“who’s there?”

“Dewy.”

“dewy who?”

“ _Dewy_ only have to tell each other knock knock jokes?”

Her voice raised a little at the end, and Sans knew that she didn’t just mean their small talk. The snow came down in thicker sheets by the second, but Sans ignored the silent snowstorm. He wanted to hear her joke. Sans scooted right next to crack in the door, where her voice was the clearest.

“lay it on me,” he said.

“Why did the snail cross the road?”

“i dunno, why?”

“I do not know either, but I will be sure to ask him when he gets there.”

Sans chuckled, crossing his arms on top of his knees and resting his chin on them. “that’s pretty good, old lady,” he said.

“Oh, there is far more where that came from,” she said. Sans could hear the grin again. “Do not underestimate my collection of snail puns.”

“no prob,” Sans said. “but I have to warn you… i’m a little slow on the uptake when it comes to snails.”

There was a pause and then a laugh, halfway muffled as he heard her shift against the door. As far as Sans was concerned, the snow could bury him so long as he could keep hearing that laugh.

“BROTHER!”

Sans jumped, the top layer of powder falling off his legs. He could see Papyrus running towards him, silhouetted in the falling snow.

Sans realized that he had no idea how to explain what he was doing.

“uh, hey bro,” he said, waving with one hand as Papyrus skidded to a stop in front of him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALL THE WAY OUT HERE?” Papyrus asked, leaning over and brushing the snow off Sans’s shoulders. “AND YOU’RE COVERED IN SNOW! WERE YOU SLEEPING OUT HERE?”

“uh…” Sans wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel like sharing this secret. The silence from the other side of the door seemed to say that she didn’t want to share yet either.

“YOUR BONES WILL FREEZE LIKE THAT! HERE!” Papyrus reached down, grabbing both of Sans’s wrists and pulling him upright. “HOW LONG WERE YOU IN THE SNOW?”

“dunno,” Sans said, testing out his joints by moving one leg, then the other. “i wasn’t keeping track.” He shrugged. “i’m fine, bro.”

“IT IS NOT ‘FINE,’ YOU LAZYBONES!” Papyrus said. He swept a pointed hand back towards the forest. “YOU WALKED RIGHT PAST THE GATE I MADE TO KEEP HUMANS OUT! IF SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU OUT HERE, THEN I WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN!”

“that’s a gate?” Sans asked, leaning around him. From here, he just make out the wooden arch over the bridge. It looked too large to be able to keep _anyone_  out. “are humans that big?” he asked, looking back at Papyrus.

“YES!” Papyrus said, throwing his hands in the air. “I TOLD YOU THIS WHEN YOU TOOK UP THE SENTRY POSITION! BUT CLEARLY YOU WERE NOT LISTENING!! SO!! WHATEVER!!” Papyrus crossed his arms and turned away from Sans. There were small piles of snow growing on Payrus’s shoulders and skull. How long had he been looking for him?

“i’m sorry, pap. really,” Sans said, taking a step towards him. “i was just goofin’ off. i didn’t want you to worry.”

Papyrus didn’t turn around, but his shoulders shifted a little, knocking off some of the snow. “APOLOGY ACCEPTED,” he said. “BUT HOW DO YOU EVEN ‘GOOF OFF’ IN FRONT OF A DOOR?”

“knock knock jokes,” Sans said, not worried at all about saying that part. He winked at Papyrus. “obviously.”

Papyrus shook his head, sending the snow flying everywhere. “WE CAN DISCUSS YOUR CHOICE OF STAND-UP PRACTICE AREAS AT HOME,” he said. “IT’S GETTING HARD TO SEE THROUGH ALL OF THIS.”

He reached back and grabbed Sans’s hand before walking towards the bridge. Sans stumbled behind him in the near snowstorm, looking back at the door. He was sure that she’d heard most of that, but Sans hadn’t gone a single meeting yet without saying goodbye. But he also wasn’t sure if he could convince Papyrus that shouting a farewell back to the door was actually an elaborate joke.

So all he did was watch as the door faded away behind the snow and the trees.

* * *

Sans heard another soft thump as Papyrus added a blanket to the pile. Sans could still see the top of their table underneath the fringe of blankets, but not much else. His brother had thrown dozens of blankets over him once they’d come back home, forcing Sans to slump over the table under their weight. He didn’t remember owning this many blankets in the first place. Where was Papyrus getting all of these from?

He heard Papyrus’s footsteps approach again. Sans braced himself for yet another blanket or quilt or whatever else his brother was throwing on him now, but instead he heard the soft scrape of a mug across the table. The bottom half of his blue mug came into sight past the blanket cave.

“YOU DO NOT HAVE TO DRINK IT,” Papyrus said from somewhere off to his side, “BUT AT LEAST HOLD IT. IT WILL WARM YOU UP IN NO TIME.”

“ok, mom,” Sans said. He freed his hands from the weight of an oppressive felt blanket and put his hands around the cup. A chunk of ice slid off his knuckles onto the table. Maybe Papyrus was on to something with that ‘frozen bones’ thing. “what is this?” Sans asked.

“I… AM NOT SURE,” Papyrus admitted. “IT’S A RECIPE THAT UNDYNE GAVE ME! SHE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT 'DESTROYING THE COLD SCOURGE FROM WITHIN.' I’M NOT SURE WHAT THAT MEANS, BUT IT SOUNDS VIOLENT.”

Sans drummed his finger bones against the mug. Papyrus’s cooking was one thing, but Undyne’s meant taking his own life into his hands. For all he knew, she’d given Papyrus a recipe for drinkable lava.

The ice that had fallen off melted into a pool of water on the table. “you really don’t have to worry this much, bro,” Sans said.

He heard the chair next to him scrape across the floor. When Papyrus spoke again, it came from close by. “LOOK, SANS…” he began, “I’M GLAD THAT YOU TOOK THE SENTRY JOB AND AREN’T JUST WANDERING AROUND ON BREAKS. BUT I ALSO DO NOT WANT IT TO COME AT A COST TO YOUR HEALTH.” Papyrus paused. “I DO NOT WANT YOU TO TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, BROTHER, BUT—"

Sans shifted in his seat, and he felt a blanket fall off the pile. Papyrus picked it up and put it back on him. “papyrus, i appreciate it, but you’re over-reacting. i know my limits,” Sans said.

“UNDYNE HAS TOLD ME THINGS ABOUT HUMANS THAT WOULD MAKE YOU TERRIFIED OF THEM, SANS,” Papyrus said. “THEY ARE HUGE AND STRONG, AND SOME OF THEM ARE EVEN STRONGER THAN ME, DESPITE HOW GREAT I AM!” Papyrus paused, and even under all the blankets Sans still felt like he could see him posing.

“BUT!” Papyrus continued, “UNDYNE ALSO SAYS THAT THERE ARE HUMANS WHO VALUE FRIENDSHIP ABOVE ALL ELSE! THOSE KINDS OF HUMANS WILL BE JUDGED AGAINST MY PUZZLES BEFORE I DEFEAT THEM AND ASSUME MY RIGHTFUL ROLE AS A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Sans started to applaud from under the blankets.

“THANK YOU,” Papyrus said. “I…HAD A POINT SOMEWHERE IN THERE… AH! YES!” He slammed his fist down on the table, making Sans jump. “BROTHER, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE SAME ROYAL GUARD TRAINING THAT I DO! AND IN THE CASE THAT A HUMAN ARRIVES THAT IS JUDGED TO BE UNWORTHY BY MY PUZZLES, THEN I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DEAL WITH THEM. JUST REPORT THE SIGHTING TO ME OR UNDYNE AND WE’LL TAKE CARE OF IT. LET ME—ER, US PROTECT YOU.”

The swooping sense of deja vu passed through Sans. Even though the words weren’t exact, they were familiar—

_Just let us take care of it._

Sans shuddered, feeling sick. He hadn’t heard that voice in a while, but he also didn’t want Papyrus to worry any more. He made a thumbs-up with one of his exposed hands on the table. “no arguments there, bro. less work for me,” Sans said.

“GOOD,” Papyrus said. “WELL, NOT THE LESS WORK PART, BUT I KNOW THAT YOU MEAN WELL.” Sans heard Papyrus push his chair back but then pause for a moment.

“SANS… I DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO THINK WHEN I SAW YOU WEREN’T THERE,” Papyrus said. “I COME TO CHECK IN ON YOU AT THE SAME TIME DURING YOUR SHIFT EVERY DAY. EVEN IF YOU DO WANDER AROUND ON YOUR BREAKS, YOU’RE USUALLY VERY PUNCTUAL ABOUT OUR MEETINGS!”

Sans sniggered, causing one of the blankets to fall off.

“OH MY GOD, WHAT DID I SAY?”

“you’re right bro,” Sans said, his shoulders still shaking with laugher even under the weight of the blankets. “i try to make it a point to be _pun_ -ctual.”

“OH. MY. GOD.”

Sans heard Papyrus walk away, and could just make out his brother’s muffled screaming into his hands. Sans’s shoulders couldn’t stop shaking, and there were tears coming to his eye sockets. Papyrus making accidental puns was the best.

The door flashed through his head. Sans wondered how she’d react to Papyrus’s unintentional puns.

“WELL, I GUESS IF YOU’RE STILL MAKING TERRIBLE JOKES THEN YOU CAN’T BE FEELING TOO BAD,” Papyrus said from the other side of the room.

“never said I felt bad in the first place, bro,” Sans said. He heard Papyrus sigh on the other side of the room.

“I JUST… DON’T WANT TO REPEAT WHAT HAPPENED ALL THOSE YEARS AGO,” Papyrus said in a quieter tone.

Sans tensed up. The truth was, he’d forgotten about that. Papyrus’s over-reaction started to make more sense.

“i won’t miss another meet-up, bro,” Sans said.

“DO YOU PROMISE?” Papyrus asked.

Sans stayed silent. The pile of blankets finally shifted and slid forward against the table, blocking out the last bit of light.

“IT’S JUST A FARCE, SANS,” Papyrus said. His voice was even more muffled now that the blankets had fallen over him. “I KNOW THAT YOU DO NOT LIKE TO MAKE PROMISES. YOUR WORD IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.”

“thanks, bro,” Sans said. “so, uh, can you take these blankets off me now? They’re getting a bit too hot to handle.”

“I WILL IF YOU STOP MAKING BAD JOKES,” Papyrus responded.

“i thought you just said you understood that i hate promises,” Sans said, grinning even though no one could see him.

“YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE,” Papyrus said, but Sans felt the weight of the blankets start to lift.

“love you too, bro.”

* * *

The next day made it look like the snowstorm had never happened. It was as cold and dark as ever, but the fresh, untouched snow felt like a new start. After dusting off their doorsteps, the residents of Snowdin went back to business as usual.

Sans stayed at his post that day to wait for Papyrus. Not being able to go do nothing somewhere else was more taxing than he expected. Ten minutes in, Sans discovered that his extra condiment bottles had frozen during the storm. That answered his question about the freezing point of ketchup. He spent a good amount of time shaking out the frozen chunks, watching them break against the wood to see what patterns they made. Normally he would just go get new bottles, but Sans needed to kill time and this took the least amount of energy.

The ketchup bottle was last. It slid out in a solid cylinder chunk before shattering across the counter. Looking at the bits of frozen ketchup made Sans wonder if ketchup popsicles could be a thing.

Nah. Too much effort.

Sans flicked the frozen pieces with his finger, knocking them together. He wondered if the lady behind the door knew any good ketchup puns, or if she would think that ketchup popsicles were gross. He hadn’t been paying attention to his internal clock, but after last night Sans knew that he would have to postpone their meeting time until after he saw Papyrus. That had been the whole point in staying here in the first place.

He knocked a few pieces with his fingers, watching them slide in different directions when they collided. Sans started mentally calling it ketchup hockey.

He wondered what the lady behind the door did when she was bored. Did she invent weird games like this? Did she have someone like Papyrus to get mad at her puns?

Was anyone there for her past that door?

“BROTHER!”

Sans jumped at the echo, and then sat up, waving back to Papyrus. He skidded to a stop in front of the sentry station a few moments later.

“I JUST GOT OFF THE PHONE WITH UNDYNE,” Papyrus started, “AND SHE SAID THAT SHE HAS EYES IN FRONT OF THAT DOOR.” He put a hand to his chin. “WHICH IS VERY ODD, BECAUSE I WAS SURE THAT SHE ONLY HAS TWO, BUT APPARENTLY SHE HAS MORE THAN THAT. AS A FRIEND, I MUST BE SUPPORTIVE OF HER CHOICE TO NOT HAVE HER MULTIPLE EYES ON HER FACE AT ONCE.” Papyrus nodded in his conviction. “BUT… JUST BECAUSE UNDYNE IS WATCHING DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU CAN SLACK OFF ON YOUR JOB! IN FACT, IT MEANS THE OPPOSITE!” Papyrus glanced down at the counter. “WHAT ARE THOSE?”

“ketchup hockey, bro,” Sans said.

He knocked one of the frozen pieces into another one to demonstrate. The hit piece kept sliding until it fell off the edge into the snow. Papyrus followed it with a blank expression.

“uh, you ok, pap?” Sans asked.

Papyrus looked back up at him with a large grin.

“SANS, I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT YOU JUST GAVE ME A BRILLIANT IDEA FOR A PUZZLE!” He reached over, pulling Sans into a hug that knocked the other ketchup pieces off the counter.

“uh, you’re welcome,” Sans said, patting Papyrus on the back.

He let Sans go, still grinning. “I MUST FIND A SPOT FOR IT IMMEDIATELY! I’LL SEE YOU AT HOME, SANS!”

And he ran off just as fast as he’d arrived. Sans shrugged. Apparently puzzles were the way to get Papyrus to stop worrying.

Sans looked towards the forest and felt like a weight had lifted away from him. He wondered what kind of jokes she’d tell today.

* * *

There was a small mound of snow in front of the door. Sans spent a minute kicking it away until he’d made a rough path through. He sat down in front of the crack in the door and listened. There it was, that soft rustle on just the other side. And…something that sounded like paper? Sans wasn’t sure.

He leaned against the cold door, looking up at the piles of snow that threatened to fall on him. It figured that she would beat him here today, but even just knowing that she’d waited for him filled him with something light that squeezed at his ribcage. He sat there for another moment, just listening to her breathe. And then—

“knock knock.”

“Oh!”

Sans heard movement and a book closing. That _had_  been paper earlier. “You came!” she said, sounding as excited as she had when they’d first agreed to keep meeting again.

“hey, that’s not how it goes. you’re supposed to say ‘who’s there?’” Sans joked. “wow lady, i know i’m late, but you’re really going to make me work for it today, huh?”

She laughed. “I apologize,” she said. “I…was not sure if you would come at all today.”

“and miss this?” Sans responded. “nah. i’ve never met anyone else who could match me in puns.”

“Neither have I,” she said, but with a hint of wistfulness, like she’d just remembered something.

Sans wondered if he should change the subject, but she beat him to it. “Yesterday… That was your brother, was it not?” she asked.

“yeah, that’s papyrus,” Sans said. “he’s, uh, pretty cool if you get to know him.”

“He sounded very sweet,” she said. Another pause. “He…said something about a fence to keep out humans?”

“uh, yeah,” Sans said. “it’s over by the bridge. …if you’ve seen the bridge, that is.” She didn’t answer, so Sans continued. “he takes human stuff pretty seriously, since he’s training to be in the royal guard—“

Sans heard a soft gasp and turned towards the door. “you okay in there?” he asked.

“Yes. I apologize,” she said. “I was just reminded of something. Your brother… What does he think about humans?”

“uh…” Sans scratched the top of his skull. “he thinks catching one would be a good way to get into the royal guard. but i don’t think he thinks a lot about humans in particular… except for how they might react to his puzzles.”

“Is that so,” she said. There was a pause. “Are these puzzles…dangerous?”

“eh,” Sans said with a shrug even though she couldn’t see him. “depends, i guess. i don’t think he’s out to hurt anybody, though. even though he really does like spikes—“

He heard another slight gasp on the other side of the door, this one making him jump. Guilt came out of nowhere. Sans found himself wondering if maybe she didn’t want to be here at all.

“hey, if you’re not feeling up to it today—“

“No no no, I am fine,” she said. He heard her take a breath before continuing. “It is just…difficult sometimes for an old lady like me to hear about violence.”

Sans leaned back against the door, trying to will the unexpected guilt away. “papyrus would probably argue with you about that,” he said, trying to distract himself by keeping the conversation going. “he thinks spikes are cool, not violent.”

She laughed, and the last bits of his insecurity floated away. “Agree to disagree, I suppose,” she said. “Although, I cannot fault the judgement of someone who worried enough about their brother to come looking for them in the snow.”

Sans shifted where he sat. “yeah, papyrus is…a really good brother,” he said, tracing a pattern in the snow.

“It is nice when you have someone who cares enough to come after you,” she said.

Sans stopped when he heard her wistful tone. He stared down at the outline of his handprints in the snow alongside the random lines he’d carved through them with his finger.

Well, that answered his earlier question.

“hey, uh…” Sans started, “i wanted to, um, say sorry for yesterday.”

He heard her shift closer to the door. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“it’s…well…” Sans scrambled to find the right words, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “i don’t want you to think that i was ditching you or…something.” He knocked his forehead against the edge of the door. That had sounded much dumber out loud than it had in his head. 

“Of course I would not think that of you,” she answered with a warm tone. “I’m happy that you come at all, to be honest.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Jokes or not, it is hard for me to believe that anyone can have fun with an old lady like me.”

“like i said, you’re really underestimating how far i’ll go for a good joke,” Sans said. “and…you’re pretty good company, lady.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped against the door, waiting for her answer.

“Knock knock,” she said.

“who’s there?”

“Knot.”

“knot who?”

“You’re _knot_  bad yourself!” she said, chuckling a little at the end.

“heh heh,” Sans laughed back. “glad to hear it.”

He paused, and heard some more shuffling of papers. But before he could ask what book she was reading—

“I told you yesterday that I enjoy snail puns,” she said, her voice bright in the same way it was before she said a punchline. “And now I want to know what _your_  favorite jokes are.”

Sans whistled, sliding down the door a little. The hood on his jacket bunched up around his skull. “wow, that’s a tough one, lady,” he said. “uh… any kind of word pun is good with me, but if i had to pick… bone puns always get to me, _tibia_  honest.”

“So you could say that you find them _humerus_?” she answered, not missing a beat.

There was a pause, and then they both burst out laughing, Sans falling to the ground. The snow made a loud crushing noise underneath him.

“Are you—“ She was trying to say something, but laughter kept slipping out between her words. “Are you all right out there?”

“never better,” Sans said, staring up from the ground. He could see the tops of the trees trailing off into darkness above, and for the first time in a while, that sight didn’t bother him.

“Are you sitting in the snow again?” she asked.

“nope,” Sans replied, sitting up and brushing the snow off his kneecaps.

“I _can_  hear you, you know,” she said in a teasing tone.

“busted,” Sans said, standing up and leaning back against the door. “you gonna rat me out to my bro?”

She laughed. “I will not,” she said. “This will be our secret.” She paused. “But… I will not take too much of your time today.”

“what?” Sans said, turning his head.

He heard her take a deep breath.

“You have a family that cares about you,” she said. “You shouldn’t spend all your time out here with me. We will see—” She stopped, catching herself. “I mean, we will talk again tomorrow.”

There was a tint of sadness in her tone, but it wasn’t about them, Sans was sure of that. But he still didn’t want to pry.

“yeah,” Sans agreed. “it’s a promi—”

He cut himself off before he could finish the last syllable.

“Did you say something?” she asked.

“nah,” Sans said, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

Maybe cutting back a bit on these meetings would be good for him.

“knock knock,” he said.

“Who’s there?” she answered.

“iva.”

“Iva who?”

“ _i’ve a_ sore hand from knocking. ”

Once again her laughter filled the empty spaces, and once again Sans wished that it would never stop.


	3. Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you just answered your own question,” Sans said. He tilted his skull back against the door. “i tell jokes with you. that’s good enough for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes for the long delay! I’m behind on all my fic projects right now, but this one really takes the cake—I ended up needing to rewrite this whole chapter because it wasn’t working the way that I needed it to. Part of that is because I’ve changed the plan for this story a bit, and it’s far wider in scope than I originally intended. The summary is still accurate, there’s just a lot more that I’ll be covering in this fic—if I manage to do it right that is! So, for those of you who’ve been here since the beginning, thank you for sticking around! I hope you’ll enjoy what’s in store!
> 
> Credit for the dumb jokes in the later part of this chapter goes to Google since I’m still terrible at making up puns on my own. I’m sorry, Sans!

Sans woke up to what sounded like a watery explosion and a loud “NYEH!” coming from below his floor.

He rolled over, rubbing his eye sockets, and felt gravity take hold of him. Sans scrambled to catch hold of his sheets before he tumbled out of bed, but his fingers only met air. He hit the floor of his room with a loud THUMP, the noise reverberating in his skull.

“ow.”

"BROTHER? WAS THAT YOU?"

Sans could still hear Papyrus’s voice through the floor. He sat up, rubbing his skull, and saw that his blanket had twisted itself around his legs, keeping them suspended off the ground. Sans could feel the fabric pulling on some of the joints in his foot. From that alone he could tell that it was stuck between his bones. It would take a while to untangle them.

"SANS? IS EVERYTHING OKAY?" Papyrus asked.

“i’m fine,” Sans said, lying back down on the floor. He’d just woken up, and already he’d lost the energy to deal with his bedsheets. “what about you, bro?” he asked. “what was that sound?”

“AH—I WAS TRYING A NEW RECIPE AND IT SEEMS TO HAVE…EXPLODED,” Papyrus answered. Sans rolled over so that he could hear better through the floor. Something was sizzling.

“BUT IT IS NOTHING THAT I CANNOT FIX!” Papyrus continued. The sizzling was overshadowed by the sound of pots and pans banging around. “AND BESIDES, YOU’VE NAPPED FOR LONG ENOUGH! IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR PATROL!”

“you sure you wanna go to work, bro?” Sans called back, grinning. “sounds like you’re having a _blast_ down there. ”

Papyrus groaned at the joke. “PATROL STARTS IN TWO HOURS, SANS!” he said. “GET READY SOON OR WE’LL BE LATE FOR BEING EARLY!”

Sans rolled onto his back again, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyesockets. He _really_ didn’t feel like untangling himself from the blanket. He didn’t feel like doing anything at all, really. It felt like something unseen was pressing down on him—not enough to make him uncomfortable, but enough to make Sans think that it would be easier to just lie there.

As he weighed his options, Sans shifted his skull to the side and saw something white taped to the inside of his door.

He flew up, pulling at the blankets around his legs, hearing them tear in the process. The pressure was still there, but now it was overridden by the feeling of urgency building up inside him. He had to see the note.

Sans stumbled to his door, cloth still stuck between the gaps in his toes. He ripped the tape as he pulled the note away. The creases in the paper were worn, as if someone had folded it many times. Sans swallowed, smoothing the note out against the door before reading it.

‘add to the tally bonehead,’ it said. Underneath were four straight lines, the last one shakier than the rest. Sans flipped the paper over. On the back, it read, ‘i know you are but what am i.’

He looked to the side. There were more paper balls in the corner than he remembered. Sans pressed his hands harder against the door.

_When it happens, you’ll know._

Sans shook his head as a sick sense of deja vu washed over him.

He needed his journal.

Sans stumbled out of his room and down the stairs a minute later, only one of his arms through his jacket sleeves. Now there was a buzzing in his skull, forcing him to grip the bannister as he walked down the stairs. Sans couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t until he’d reached the bottom of the stairs that he remembered that he could’ve just taken a shortcut straight to the shed.

“SANS?” Papyrus called. Sans shook his head again to try to clear out the buzz, but it wouldn’t leave. He leaned against the base of the banister in a way he hoped wouldn’t make Papyrus suspicious.

Papyrus poked his head out from the kitchen a moment later. “ARE YOU COMING OUT OF YOUR ROOM OR—OH.” He cut himself off when he saw Sans at the base of the stairway.

“THERE YOU ARE,” Papyrus continued. He pointed at Sans with what looked like a half-melted whisk. “PUT YOUR JACKET ON PROPERLY, LAZYBONES. YOU’LL FREEZE WHEN WE TEST THE SNOW PUZZLE TODAY.”

“sounds cool,” Sans said, trying to sound normal around the fuzziness in his mind. He pointed with his thumb towards the door. “i’m gonna go to grillby’s to get some brunch.”

Papyrus shook his head. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU SEE IN THAT PLACE,” he started. “WHY CAN’T YOU EAT SOMETHING MORE—”

The swooping sound of a flame coming to life cut him off. Sans could see an orange glow from behind Papyrus. “uh,” Sans said, leaning to the side. “something’s on fire, bro.”

Papyrus looked back towards the kitchen, his eye sockets going wide. “ENJOY YOUR GREASE!” he shouted, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Sans sighed, pressing a hand to the side of his skull. He just needed to get the journal. If he could just do that—

He gulped and walked towards the front door, opening it wide and passing through—

It was a small shortcut, but for the first time in a while Sans needed to close his eyes. He waited until he felt the texture of the floor change underneath his slippers before opening his eye sockets again.

The room was the same as always. Dusty floor, closed cabinets, and the broken machine with a tarp thrown over it towards the back. No—there was one difference. As his eyes swept the room, Sans spotted the blueprints sitting on top of the cabinets, the paper starting to collect dust as well.

When had those gotten there…?

The silence inside the room paired with staring at the blueprints made the buzzing in Sans’s skull worse. He felt like his mind was on the verge of something that he _should_ remember but couldn’t. Like forgetting a word right before he was about to say it.

He walked a little closer to the blueprints, holding the side of his skull. It felt like the edges of his eye sockets were burning.

There was a strange drawing on the paper, with handwritten notes underneath it. The curve of the letters seemed to push his sight away, like it wasn’t meant to be looked at.  
Bits and pieces were coming back to Sans—he didn’t make these blueprints, someone had asked him to hold on to them, but he couldn’t remember who. Or why.

Sans had to look away. The buzzing became ringing, and the room felt much smaller than it was.

He just.

Needed.

The journal.

He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until he grabbed one of the drawer handles, making the cabinet rattle. Sliding the drawer open, Sans spotted the journal immediately—a beat-up composition notebook covered in faded stickers. It was right where he’d left it.

The problem was he didn’t remember when or why he’d last left it here.

The buzzing grew harder to handle. Sans grabbed the notebook, catching a glimpse of a stack of photo albums underneath it. He slammed the cabinet shut with his free hand before he could be tempted to look.

If he stayed here long enough, then he’d remember—this place was stuffed full of reminders for this exact reason, that much Sans could recall—but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. At least, not right now.

Sans turned away from the cabinet, shoving the journal into his jacket pocket. He closed his eye sockets, taking a few steps forward—

He opened them when he heard the crunch of snow underneath his slippers. Sans exhaled, looking up at the familiar Grillby’s sign above him. The buzzing lifted a little. His reaction to the note on his door felt silly out in the cold Snowdin air.

But just in case—

Sans pushed open the door and walked inside.

“Sansy! We haven’t seen you in forever!”

Sans waved at the regulars before putting his hands back in his pockets. “i see you guys are behaving yourselves without me,” he said.

“Hey, Sans,” one of the monsters called from the bar, “I see Undyne hasn’t overworked you just yet.”

Sans put a hand to his chest. “i am offended,” he said. “clearly she’s worked me down to the bone.”

The group laughed as Sans took his usual seat at the bar. As he reached inside his jacket pocket to pull out the notebook, Grillby wordlessly put a bottle of ketchup in front of him. Sans paused, and then grinned up at him. “thanks,” he said. Grillby nodded, the flames on his head crackling as he walked away.

Sans set the notebook on the counter, digging around in his pockets for another minute before finding a pen. He twirled it between his fingerbones, looking at the journal’s cover.

It was covered with faded stickers of beakers holding florescent liquids, a map of the atom, and four-pointed yellow stars. On the front, in the space labeled “Name,” SANS was scribbled in all capital letters with a red pen. Something else was written below it, but it had long been scratched out with a blue marker. Underneath that, in the same blue marker, were the words “observation journal.”

There was something nostalgic about it that Sans couldn’t place. He knew that the notebook was his, and he knew that it was important to him. But just like with the things in the basement, he couldn’t remember when he’d started using the journal this way, or even when he’d first picked it up.  
Sans opened the cover flat against the bar’s surface. On the first page, written in his own handwriting, was the word “rules.” Underneath, it continued:

  * go to the last entry.
  * if you don’t remember it or it hasn’t happened, go to the next previous entry.
  * keep going until you recognize something that happened, and then read them all.
  * add an entry if there is evidence of at least 5 timeline skips
  * try not to forget



Sans took a long drink from the ketchup bottle before flipping through the rest of the pages. Early entries were in long-faded pencil that Sans could never make out—although part of that might have been be due to the spike in his headache every time he glanced at them. Later entries had specific dates attached to them, but he’d given up on that before long. There was a spread close to the middle where he’d filled every bare inch of the page with detail, but now his entries were bullet-point lists.  
What was in the notebook was what he needed and wanted to remember. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sans finally found the last line of his last entry, underlined in pen.

“take the job.”

His other self hadn’t just left a note—they’d put a reminder in the journal as well. Sans had to agree. He shook the pen in his hand a little bit to make sure the ink was flowing. Sans bit the end of it out of habit, thinking.

Only one thing had really changed, and it made a good addition to where he’d left off before. Sans took the pen out of his mouth and started the next entry.

  * _killer at knock knock jokes_
  * _bring your best puns_
  * _she likes snail puns the best_
  * _no really she’s good_



Sans flipped the pen around in his hand. Time hadn’t jumped back far enough to make him forget about her, but if it did, Sans didn’t want to lose his pun buddy. On the off chance that those memories became clouded like the others, at least he had some insurance that he could put things back the way they were now.

“heh,” he said to himself. “sorry to spoil the surprise, other me.”

He twirled the pen between two fingers, trying to think of something else that his other selves would need to be aware of, but he came up with nothing. The days he remembered had fallen into a routine. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Sans looked around the room, spotting Lesser Dog losing a card game against himself. Behind him, he could hear Doggo chasing out the teenagers who’d spent the last few minutes banging on the jukebox to try to get it work. Sans poked at his now-empty ketchup bottle as one of the teenagers shouted about getting more respect by living in the woods.

Yep. Same as usual.

…So then why didn’t the pressure go away?

Sans closed the notebook and put it back into his pocket, wishing for another round of ketchup hockey. Usually Grillby’s was more than enough of a distraction, but today—  
Maybe getting some air would do him some good.

“hey grillby,” Sans said, flagging him down, “can you make the next one to-go? i gotta get to work.”

Grillby nodded as a mock gasp of shock came from one of the tables by the door. “Sansy is going to work _on time_?” one of the regulars said. “Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Impossible things are happening. Someone check outside to see if the Angel has descended.”

Sans shrugged. “the sooner i go back, the sooner i can go on break,” he said.

“I sure hope so,” said the monster next to him at the bar. “We haven’t seen that much of you lately.”

“welp, you know how working is,” Sans said with a shrug. “less time to goof off.”

“But you _always_ find a way to goof off, Sansy!”

“never said i wouldn’t,” Sans winked. “just that there’s less time for it.” He took the bag that Grillby placed in front of him, waving at the monsters sitting at the bar and at the tables before walking through the front door. “see ya.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Sansy!”

The door clattered shut behind him. Sans shifted the takeout bag into his arms, the paper crinkling against his hand. The journal felt like a brick in his pocket.

The buzzing pressure was still there.

Sans glanced up at the dark gray ceiling. It looked like it would snow again soon.

* * *

Papyrus came by to check on him early, so Sans left his post early as well. The entire time he’d been at the sentry station, the buzzing in his skull built itself up to something close to what he’d felt in the shed, only breaking back down for a few minutes when Papyrus had shown up. Sans had hoped that maybe walking through the forest to the door would do something—he didn’t want to risk any more shortcuts after the vertigo from that morning—but it wasn’t helping either.

It felt the same as when he’d walked through the forest for first time after taking the sentry job, not knowing what he would find.

Sans looked up from his snow-caked slippers, catching sight of the purple door at the end of the path. He knew he’d probably beaten her here today, but even the anticipation was enough to distract him from his circular thoughts for a moment. Sans started walking faster.

What kind of jokes would she have today? And how would she laugh at his?

He sat against the door with a sigh, propping up the takeout bag against the rock wall. Sans tilted his skull back, looking up at the darkness above the trees. It still looked like snow, but it hadn’t fallen yet. He pulled up his hood, just in case. Maybe it was a good thing he’d made it here early—if it started snowing, he could cut things short without having to worry Papyrus.

Sans breathed out, his bones resting heavier against the door. He listened close for any noise on the other side. Maybe he’d be able to surprise her this time—start a joke before she realized he was already waiting for her. There was no way he could imagine her face, but in his mind’s eye he could hear her reaction—a quick “oh!” and then the way she held her breath right before bursting into laughter. Sans’s smile grew wider just thinking about it. There had to be one good joke she hadn’t heard yet—

His train of thought stopped when he realized that it was _silent_.

Sans could hear the faint echo of the wind through the trees, but nothing else. No buzzing. No headache. No compulsion to push himself to remember something he couldn’t reach.

Just silence. And her laughter in his head.

Sans sagged against the door, feeling like a heavy weight had lifted off of him. Now all he felt was _tired_.

His eye sockets began to droop—

“Knock knock!”

Sans jumped with a gasp, almost hitting his skull against the door.

“Oh dear!” Her voice drifted out from between the crack in the door.  “Did I startle you?” she asked.

Sans let out a breath of air as he relaxed, watching it turn into a cloud before vanishing. “just surprised me, that’s all,” Sans said, readjusting his hood so that he could hear her better. “guess you got the _jump_ on me. ”

“I apologize,” she said. He heard her shift closer to the door. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“nah, it’s fine,” Sans said, settling back against the door. “i was just thinking about how i was gonna surprise you.”

“Oh? And how did you plan to do that?” she asked.

“the same thing you just did,” Sans said.

There was a pause.

“uh, no joke there, i really was going to do the same thing,” Sans said. “great minds joke alike, i suppose.”

He caught some muffled giggling on the other side of the door. “I was thinking about it the whole way here,” she said. “So I will not apologize for being the one to act first.” He could hear the joking smirk in her tone.

“oh boy,” Sans said, shaking his skull even though she couldn’t see him, “that’s a declaration of joke war. i’m gonna have to hear the rest of this ambush joke before i decide how to retaliate.”

“Knock knock,” she began again.

“who’s there?” Sans asked.

“House.”

“house who?”

“ _House_ it going?”

She started laughing at her own punchline, Sans joining in a moment later.

“ok, i’m gonna have to think up a good one to match that,” Sans said, digging around in the takeout bag for the extra ketchup bottle.

“What is that sound?” she asked.

“oh, uh, i brought some food from grillby’s,” Sans said. It took him another second to realize she didn’t know what he meant. “it’s this food place next to where i live. i go there a lot.”

“You do not cook?” she asked, sounding shocked and surprised.

“nope,” Sans said, finding the ketchup bottle and leaning back against the door. “papyrus is learning how, but, uh, he almost blew up the kitchen this morning, so i’m staying away from that.”

“Still,” she said, concern creeping into her voice, “It is better to cook for yourself. Your diet can become unhealthy.”

Sans took a drink from the bottle before answering. “papyrus says that too,” he said. “but, uh, i love him and all, but i’m not sure if i can call what he makes ‘food.’”

“Surely it cannot be that bad,” she said.

“one time he made something that melted right through our table,” Sans said,

“Oh my,” she said.

The wind echoed in the distance.

“Still, I do not like the idea of a friend not eating well,” she continued. “I used to do a lot of cooking for others. I could give you some recipes to pass on to your brother, if you do not think he would mind.”

“wow, that’s…really nice of you,” Sans said, putting the top back on the ketchup bottle. “and i’m sure Papyrus wouldn’t mind.”

The wind blew through the path again, pulling at his hood.

“I…have to request that you not mention they are from me,” she said. Her voice became slower, sadder. “I do not like asking you to lie to your brother. But it is better for everyone if I keep my solitude.”

Sans looked up at the gray ceiling blocked by the crumbling purple accents around the door. ”maybe i could just try it myself,” Sans said. “that way there’s no lying.”

There was a long pause, and then she burst out into laughter. “I thought that you said you were staying away from cooking,” she chuckled.

“can’t have my pun friend worrying about me,” Sans said, dangling the ketchup bottle from his fingertips. “and, uh, i haven’t been lying exactly… but i haven’t told him _why_ i come out here just yet. ”

“That’s—“ she started, but then cut herself off. She took a deep breath and started again. “I will not attempt to talk you out of learning how to cook. But I do need to ask why you decided to not tell your brother in the first place.”

Sans scratched his cheek. “that’s, uh, kind of a hard question to answer, lady,” he said. “but i guess if i had to sum it up… it’s nice to just have somewhere to go where i can forget about everything else.”

She laughed weakly. “I understand the feeling,” she said, “But I am just an old lady you tell jokes with. You do not even know my name. Why should you feel any loyalty towards me? Let alone keep my secrets?”

“you just answered your own question,” Sans said. He tilted his skull back against the door. “i tell jokes with you. that’s good enough for me.”

“That is sweet of you to say,” she said in a quiet tone.

“i trust you, lady,” Sans said. “i mean, if i can’t trust someone with puns as good as yours, who can i trust?”

She laughed again, but this time it sounded a bit watery. “I suppose I have kept to myself for so long that I’m surprised that you can trust someone you barely know anything about,” she said.

“welp, i can’t say i’m not curious,” Sans said, setting the ketchup bottle down in the snow. “but, uh, i don’t really like to pry.”

He put his hands back into his pockets, his finger bones trailing across the cover of the journal. “everyone’s got a few secrets,” Sans said, “and i’m sure you’ve got your reasons. ‘sides, i haven’t told you my name either.”

Another pause. “You are right,” she said, sounding surprised. “I hadn’t even noticed!” she laughed.

“guess that makes us even,” Sans said, winking even though she couldn’t see him.

“And here I am worrying about what you must think of me,” she continued. “I really am just a silly old lady.”

“a silly old lady who can tell the best bad jokes i’ve ever heard,” Sans said. “you don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to. i’ll still come around.”

“Thank you,” she said. She was quiet on the other side of the door for a moment, and then Sans heard something like a sniff.

Was she crying?

“uh, we should get back to the joke war,” Sans said, pretending he hadn’t heard. "just give me a sec and i’ll have a joke that’ll blow you away.”

He heard a short laugh. “And I will be ready and waiting to return fire,” she answered.

Sans rolled the ketchup bottle between his hands, thinking. He really did need something good, something that could cheer her up—but instead an intrusive thought floated across his mind.

How many times had they had this exact conversation?

He’d seen the proof this morning. Someone or something was messing around with time. The memories he just couldn’t recall were part of it. The journal and the notes only walked him down a forgotten path he’d taken before. They were the only reason he was sitting here with her now.

They’d done this at least once before. Even with his new safeguard through the journal, how many times would they do this again?

Sans closed his eye sockets.

“ok, i’ve got one,” he said.

“Go ahead,” she answered.

“so, lady.”

“Yes?”

“will you remember me in a year?”

“Of course.”

“will you remember me in a month?”

“Why would I forget?”

“will you remember me in a week?”

He heard her chuckle. “Yes, I will remember you.”

“knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“see, you already forgot me.”

And there it was, that laugh that his imagination couldn’t quite match. Sans picked up the bottle again as he listened to it drift out from behind the door.

“Oh my goodness!” she gasped. “I need to write down that one.”

“glad you liked it,” Sans said. He took another drink from the ketchup bottle as he heard a pen scratching across paper on the other side of the door.

The buzzing didn’t come back that day.  
 


End file.
